Fall

Off to school. Apply for jobs. Take a midterm. Take a final. What score did you get? How do you feel about your grade? Do you think we can negotiate this? Is that your final offer? Net Present Value.  Capital Appreciation Model. FASB. Did you hear back about the interview? Who got the offer?

Then: The late afternoon sunlight is yellow and orange. Pumpkins at the door. Rake leaves. Kids run through. Rake again.

"Bury me, Dad."

"Me too!"

I guess I can do this after all.

I Wonder Where He Gets It

After riding my snappy Raleigh Cruiser home from school and locking it up in the backyard, Caleb was waiting to greet me at the door.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

"Hey, bud. How are ya?"

"I'm tired and my back hurts."

Caleb's Song

Old McDonald's had french fries. E-I-E-I-O.

Chloe is a Leo

No one bothered to confirm certain identity elements before we named the cat. Turns out Chloe's a boy. Maddie now calls him Leo but Caleb has been slow to adopt the change.

For my part, I'm warming up to this cat business. It's like a free babysitter. The kids go out in the backyard and play with her for hours. Good work, Chloe...Leo.

In other news, Maddie couldn't sleep in her bed tonight because it felt "unbelievable." I was surprised to learn that was a bad thing.

My Dead Body

Is this heaven? Or hell, I guess? I don't feel dead. But if not, how is it that we now have a cat?

I made all those statements: "Over my dead body." I remember it very clearly.

But there it is. Black and white. Whiskers. It's a cat. There's a saucer of milk out my back door. Where did I go wrong?

She even has a name. Chloe. Chloe the Cat. Caleb and Maddie follow her around all day.

Katie made her a house. Oh dear.

Got it, Buddy

Pointing to a photo of himself and a friend from school, Caleb astutely pointed out, "That's me in Tiger shirt. That's not me. That's Paco."

"OK."

"That's me, Tiger shirt. That's not me."

"OK." Katie turns away.

"Mommy, I tell you so'thing?"

"Yeah."

"That's me in Tiger. That's not me. That's Paco."

"Mommy, that's me in Tiger shirt."

People live this way for a reason

Promoting urban living is all well and good, but the backyard has revolutionized my life. The children can go OUTSIDE while I remain INSIDE. This is new. This is wonderful.

Not only that, but when Katie asks me to take out the trash, I don't have to go down four flights of stairs and walk through the dirty, slightly creepy storage area. My marriage has improved considerably.

Not only that, but I feel no pressure to get all 18 bags of groceries in one trip...you know, sliding bags all the way up to my shoulder like an old-time watch salesman. You can just go back out and get the rest.

New

Regarding the new church:

"Daddy, I like this church. My teacher is pretty."

Regarding the new house:

"I never knew houses had backyards. I like this house."

Regarding our friend Jacey's house:

"I like this house. The toilet flushes quiet."

Regarding Chris and Julie's house:

Whispering, "She looks like Ariel, Daddy. I like this house."

On the other hand, when Maddie slipped on the rocks in the backyard her response was: "I want to go back to my yellow house."

And Caleb sometimes asks, "When we go home?"

Urgent Idiots

Please forgive me for posting my first non-trivial entry not relating to my children. It was just on my mind.

There appears to be a subset of users of public transportation who live, sadly, in constant fear that the next stop will be the one in which the doors open ever-so briefly, allowing only that one heady passenger who fought his way to the front, to exit.

These people stand behind you. They fidget much. They are ever poised, muscles taught, ready to leap off the train during the painfully brief TWO MINUTES the doors ALWAYS remain open. As a stop approaches, perhaps even it is your stop, they press forward. "Excuse me," they say with feigned courtesy. Their tone reveals the true thought: THIS IS THE TIME THE DOORS WILL ONLY OPEN FOR ONE SECOND. MOVE YOU IDIOT!!!

An elbow. A frustrated grunt. They are in the front. They cast a satisfied glance your way and you see, even through their thick glasses, the glint of joy in their eyes: I beat you, it says. The door opens and they spring to the platform...followed leisurely by everyone else they pushed out of the way.

But they know, deep down, that the time will come and the joke will be on us.

Maddie Suddenly Sees

Her best friend Clara was the source of Maddie's revelation.

"Maddie, you can't move to Utah," she said. "Because you have such great princess dresses."

Later, as we were telling bedtime stories, Maddie reflected on her friend's concern: "Are there princess dresses in Utah?"

"Yes."

More thinking. "Will we have a yellow house in Utah?"

"No, honey, we'll have a gray house."

"But we can come back to the yellow house when we're done with Utah, right?"

"Not to the same one, but we can look at moving to a different yellow house," I fudged. "But you know, our new house in Utah is across the street from a big park," I diverted.

"How big?"

A successful redirect.

Fare thee Well 515 Putnam

It is over. The final documents were signed at 10 a.m. this morning. We were cleaning and making final preparations until 2 a.m. I am tired. I am nostalgic.

Our first home. Sitting on the floor watching the ALCS before we had any furniture. Maddie dancing to "This Old Man." Train tracks around the coffee table.

515 Putnam, we have outgrown you, but you will be missed.